


Red For Danger

by bluelioness31



Series: SuperMystery Continuation [3]
Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene, Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Franklin W. Dixon & Carolyn Keene
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 16:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelioness31/pseuds/bluelioness31
Summary: In Washington DC, Nancy searches for a stolen Maya artefact while Frank and Joe are on the trail of some old adversaries.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Nancy Drew brushed her reddish-blonde hair back from her face and peered up at the elegant, red brick and pale stone mansion surrounded by rolling green lawns. “So this is Beech Hill”, she said.

“Are we dressed up enough to go in there?”, Bess Marvin asked nervously. Both girls were dressed for Washington DC’s summer heat in T-shirts, shorts and baseball caps.

“It’s a museum now, Bess. Not some fancy estate. Besides, my cousin Sandra invited us all for a behind the scenes look.”, George Fayne said. Like Nancy and Bess, she was dressed casually.

The three girls were in Washington DC for a ten day vacation. They’d arrived in the city the night before and were looking forward to experiencing all that the city had to offer.

“What does your cousin do here?”, Nancy asked.

“She’s an assistant curator.”. George said. “The museum’s speciality is Pre-Columbian art and artefacts and Sandra says that they’re unveiling something big tomorrow.”  
“Did she say what it was?”. Nancy said.

“No”, George looked thoughtful. “Actually she sounded like something was bothering her. She tried to hide it, but I could tell something was up.”

“Maybe it has something to do with them.”,Bess said.

A group of people had formed themselves into a semicircle around the museum’s entrance. As the girls got closer to them, Nancy could see that most of them were young, probably college students, they wore white T-shirts with Let Pacal Go Home printed on them. They parted to let the girls through and one of the protesters handed Nancy a flyer as she passed.

Nancy pulled open the museum’s polished oak door and the three girls stepped into a marble floored octagonal lobby. George crossed to a desk and gave their names to a uniformed guard standing behind it. “Sandra Fayne is expecting us.”, she said.

As the guard made a call to announce their arrival, Nancy took a moment to gaze around the lobby. Long galleries stretched off in different directions and a guy and girl of about their own age sat on a bench nearby.

“It’s so elegant!”, Bess exclaimed as Nancy took in the gleaming marble floors, shining wood doors, and burnished brass fixtures. “This place must have belonged to some really wealthy people.”

“It was originally the home of Samuel and Lavinia Cartwright. They were a prominent Washington DC couple in the 1920’s and 30’s.”

The person who had spoken was a pretty young woman in her mid twenties. She was about Nancy’s height and had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and emerald green eyes.

“Sandra!”, George exclaimed and enveloped the young woman in a hug.

“It’s been too long since we’ve had a chance to catch up.”, Sandra explained after untangling herself from George’s embrace. She then looked at the other two girls, You must be Nancy and Bess.”

“Pleased to meet you”, Nancy said. “What’s going on outside?”

“About that”, Sandra said. “After I’ve shown you around, the museum director wants to see you. Apparently she’s heard about Nancy’s detective work from somewhere.”

“Let’s hope it’s something small”, Bess said. “That way we can get on with our vacation.”

Sandra led the girls through a door and into a high-ceilinged gallery. Glass-fronted display cases lined the walls while visitors examined the contents of free standing cases. “The Cartwrights started collecting Pre-Columbian art during the time that Samuel was posted to Mexico as part of the Foreign Service.”, she explained. “Then when they returned to DC, they bought the house and named it Beech Hill after the copper beech tree in the grounds.”

“I can see why they started collecting.”, Nancy said as she examined intricately carved pieces of jade, vividly painted pottery and ornate gold necklaces.

Nancy and her friends spent the next few hours taking in all the exquisite art and artefacts. Eventually Sandra led them away from the exhibit area and up a small flight of stairs and to an office door with a brass plate that read, Susan Caldwell, Director.

She knocked on the door and a woman answered,”Who is it?”

“It’s Sandra, Mrs Caldwell. My cousin and her friends are here to see you.”

“Well, all of you had better come in then.”

Sandra pushed open the door and the girls found themselves in a spacious and well-lit office. Prints that showed some of the same motifs that they’d seen in the art and artefacts on display hung on the walls. The office overlooked the copper beech in the grounds. Seated behind a walnut desk in front of the windows was a petite middle-aged woman. She had short blonde hair and was wearing a tailored silk suit.

“You must be Nancy Drew”, she said holding out a hand for Nancy to shake. “You’re exactly like Marilyn described you.”

“Would that be Senator Marilyn Kilpatrick?”, Nancy asked. Nancy had solved a couple of important problems for the Senator in the past.

“Marilyn and I are good friends”, Mrs Caldwell explained. “When I talked to her about the problems we’ve been having, she recommended that I talk to you.”

“Those problems wouldn’t have to do with the protestors outside, would they?”, Nancy asked.

“We’re unveiling a recent acquisition of ours tomorrow night”, Mrs Caldwell said. “A jade carving of the Mayan ruler Pacal that we managed to get just last month.”

“Who was Pacal?”, Nancy asked.

“Pacal was one of the greatest rulers of the Maya age”, Mrs Caldwell explained. “He ascended to the throne at age twelve and reigned for around seventy years in the six hundreds.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!”, Bess said.

“Unfortunately, there are several people who don’t agree with its exhibition here in the US. They believe that it’s stolen and should be returned to Mexico.”

“And is it?”, Nancy asked.

“It’s a complicated situation.”, Mrs Caldwell explained. “Several pieces like this were looted from archaeological sites in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.”

“And the Pacal carving is one of those?”, Nancy asked.

It’s not.”, Mrs Caldwell replied. “Had it been we would have returned it to Mexico. But its provenance checks out.”

“Provenance?”, Nancy echoed.

“An object’s history.”,Mrs Caldwell explained. “Who owned it in the past, when it was sold and through whom.”

“So, what’s the problem if it’s not looted?”, George asked.

“There are certain people who believe that this artefact and others like it should never have left Mexico in the first place.”

“And those are the people who are protesting outside?”, Nancy asked,

“Yes”, Mrs Caldwell answered. “We’re holding a celebration for our most dedicated supporters tomorrow night at which the carving will be unveiled. I’m concerned that there will be some publicity grabbing stunt which will disrupt the event.”

“And you want us to make sure that doesn’t happen?”, Nancy asked.

“I’d like you three to attend the event tomorrow and keep your eyes and ears open and if there is anything amiss, I’d prefer if it was dealt with discreetly.”

“And that’s all you want us to do?”, Nancy asked.

“That’s all. Then you can enjoy the rest of your vacation.”

“I say we go for it.”, Bess said.

“I don’t know.”,George said. “How many times have we agreed to take on one little assignment and it turns out to be something much bigger?”

 

 

“George, you haven’t looked at the real bright spot of this assignment.”, Bess said.

“And that is?”, Nancy asked, even though she had a feeling what Bess was going to say.

“We don’t have anything to wear for this party.”, Bess declared, a triumphant note in her voice.”So, it’s time to go shopping!”

###

At the same time in a house just outside of Bayport, Joe Hardy let out a yawn as he fidgeted in a chintz print armchair.

“Joe, will you just cool it?”, Frank, his older brother, said. “ Dad’ll probably be finished in a minute.”

“But we’ve been waiting forty-five minutes already”, Joe complained.

The brothers had accompanied Fenton Hardy, their father, on a visit to Eudora Smith. The elderly woman had taught Fenton in fifth grade and had invited them to see her late husband’s coin collection which included some rare Confederate coins. Although right now, Joe wished that his father and Mrs Smith would stop reminiscing about the past and get to the point already.

“Excuse me”, Joe said. “But I need to use the little boys’ room.”

“Of course”, Mrs Smith said. “It’s straight down the hall and on your left.”

Joe followed her directions and soon found himself in a hall with blue wallpaper. After visiting the bathroom, Joe had just finished washing his hands when a movement of shadow from the hall caught his eye.

Joe stopped and took a closer look at the moving shadow. It seemed to be coming from the door across the hall. Joe opened the door.

At first he saw only vague shapes but as his vision cleared, Joe saw a that the room was a study. There were book shelves lined with leather bound books, red leather armchairs and a black clad figure searching through the walnut desk.

Joe sprang into the room and leapt onto the figure. They struggled for a minute before Joe managed to pull off his opponent’s ski mask to reveal the face of Fiona Fox.

For a moment they stared at each other before Fiona made her move. Almost without moving, the auburn-haired cat burglar reached into her belt and pulled out a tiny silver aerosol canister. That was the last thing Joe saw before a mist hit his face and he dropped to the floor, unconscious.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The first thing that Joe was aware of was something cold on his forehead. Opening his eyes a crack, a blinding white light forced Joe to shut them again. His head ached and he couldn’t stop himself letting out a moan of pain.

“Joe, are you okay?”, Frank’s voice cut through the fog.

“I think so”, Joe answered. He tried to sit up but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t try and get up too fast, Joe.”, his father’s voice said. “Just take it easy for a while.”

Joe managed to open his eyes, the first things he saw were the worried faces of Fenton and Frank hovering near the chintz-print sofa where he was lying. In a nearby armchair, Mrs Smith sat sliding her locket back and forth on its chain.

“What happened?”, Joe asked.

“We heard the commotion in the study.”, Frank answered. “When we rushed in, we found you out cold.”

“And my Harold’s prized coins gone!”, Mrs Smith broke in.

“The coins have been stolen?”, Joe asked.

“Just the Confederate coins.”,Frank said. “And according to Mrs Smith some of the others are pretty valuable.”

“So they must have been after those ones specifically.”, Joe said. “Is it okay if I check out the crime scene with Frank, Dad?”

“I guess it’s okay.”, Fenton said. “Just don’t push yourself too hard. “

Frank and Joe headed down the hall and into the study, “There’s not much out of place here.”, Frank commented. “The crook must have known what they were looking for.”

“She certainly did.”, Joe responded. “I got a good look at the thief’s face. It was Fiona Fox.”

“Well, this type of brazen theft fits the Foxes’ MO”, Frank said.

The brothers had encountered Fiona Fox and her father twice before and though they’d always managed to recover what the two cat burglars had stolen, the father-daughter team had always been able to evade them.

Frank and Joe began to examine the study. Joe concentrated his search near the desk where the coins had been. Upon crouching down to get a closer look at the floor, Joe spotted a piece of paper, “Hey Frank, I think I found something.”

Frank came over and took the paper from Joe, “It’s a car rental receipt.”, he said. “For Kitsune Appraisers.”

“So?”, Joe responded.

“Kitsune is the Japanese word for fox, Joe”, Frank said.

“Do you think that Fiona and her dad could be using that name here in Bayport?”

“It sounds like something they would do.”, Frank answered. “We’d better watch out though. We could be playing right into their hands.”

 

###

 

“Is Bess ever going to be ready?”, George complained. “We’re supposed to be meeting Sandra for dinner in half an hour.”

“Another two minutes”, came a muffled voice from behind the closed bathroom door of the room the three girls were sharing. They were staying at The Capitol Hill Hotel, about a mile from the dome of the US Capitol Building.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bess emerged from the bathroom wearing a royal blue tunic and black skirt. Nancy had opted for her turquoise mini-dress while George had chosen the striking combination of a red halter-neck top and black leggings.

“It seems apt that we’re eating Mexican tonight.”, Nancy commented to George. “Plus we were planning to check out the waterfront anyway.”

After leaving the hotel, the girls had only a short walk to the Metro station. They squeezed into seats on the train and after a short while were scrambling up the stairs of the station nearest the waterfront.

Sandra was waiting for them inside the restaurant. “Isn’t this a great place.”, she said.

The restaurant was decorated with many of the same motifs in bright colors that they’d seen at the museum earlier that day. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a long bar lined one wall of the restaurant. Twin stair cases led to a mezzanine below the restaurant’s high ceiling.

A friendly faced waitress led them to a table by the window. “This place isn’t your typical Mexican restaurant.”, Sandra said proudly.

“It certainly seems different.”, Nancy commented. She looked through the floor to ceiling windows at the hustle and bustle outside. Older well dressed people as well as kids their own age in jeans, sneakers and T-shirts were hurrying by.

Suddenly, a young guy of about college age caught Nancy’s eye. He was tall and muscular with dark hair and dark eyes set in an olive-skinned intelligent looking face.

“That’s Alejandro del Rio.”, Sandra whispered. “He’s a college student from Mexico doing a summer internship with the cultural office of the Mexican Embassy and one of the people who’s been most vocal about the carving’s return.”

“Interesting”, Nancy said. “By the way, would it be okay with you guys if we made a quick stop at Beech Hill tomorrow morning? If there’s a stunt planned, we might be able to spot any preparations for it.”

“That’s okay with me”, George said.

“That’s a good idea.”, Sandra said. “I’ll make sure that security knows what you’re doing.”

After their meal, Nancy made a point to walk past Alejandro’s table. When he saw Sandra he scowled and said, “I need to talk to Mrs Caldwell but she’s not returning my calls.”

“She doesn’t have any more to say to you about the carving, Alejandro.”, Sandra replied. “Its provenance is clean.”

“That provenance could be forged.’, Alejandro countered. “I would like to examine those documents myself. If not, the director has joined the list of modern day conquistadors and those who allow them to flourish.”

“I know that the conquistadors were the Spanish who invaded Central and South America.”, George said. “But what does he mean by modern day conquistadors?”

“Those who loot Mexico’s art and those who by negligence or on purpose aid them.”, Alejandro answered her.

“But Mrs Caldwell checked those documents herself”, Sandra said. “She wouldn’t take someone else’s word that the provenance was clean.”

“She may not have looked as hard as she should do because she didn’t want to have to return such a rare and prestigious artefact to Mexico.”, Alejandro replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a busy day at work tomorrow.”

“I think you’ve just found your first suspect, Nance.”, Bess whispered, as they watched Alejandro leave the restaurant.”

“I don’t have any suspects, Bess. I’m not on a case.”, Nancy answered. “And we’d better get a good night’s sleep. We’ve got a pretty full day tomorrow.”

###

 

 

The next morning, after grabbing a quick breakfast at the hotel, the three girls were on the Metro on their way back to Beech Hill.

“After we finish at the museum, we’ll head to the National Mall.”, Nancy said to the other two. “What should we do first?”

“Definitely take the elevator to the top of the Washington Monument.”, George said.

“There’s so many great things to see here that we’ll never fit them all in one day.”, Bess said.

“Relax Bess, we’ve got nine more days in DC.”, George reminded her cousin.

Soon the girls were standing outside Beech Hill. “I’ll just go inside and let the guard know that we’re here.”, Nancy said.

In the lobby, Nancy saw Susan Caldwell and Sandra talking to a tall gray-haired older man with thick black spectacles.

“Hello, Nancy”, Susan Caldwell said wearily , when Nancy came over to say hello. “Sandra tells me you had a little run-in with Alejandro del Rio last night.”

“We sure did”, Nancy said.

“Where are my manners?”, Mrs Caldwell suddenly said. “Nancy, I’d like you to meet Henrik van der Hume, our head curator. Henrik, this is Nancy Drew.”

“Pleased to meet you”, Nancy said.

“Did Alejandro ask to look at the provenance documents again?”, Henrik asked. His accent was either German or Dutch, Nancy couldn’t quite tell which.

“He keeps insisting that they could be forged.”, Sandra said.

“He does have a point.*, Henrik replied. “There are probably thousands of forged documents floating around.”

“Do you agree with Alejandro about the carving?, Nancy asked Henrik.

“To a certain degree”, Henrik answered. “I do believe that so much art and artefacts should never have left Mexico. But I am excited to have the opportunity to study the carving and to learn what more it could tell us about the Maya.”.

“Well, there’s a lot to do before this evening.”, Mrs Caldwell said. “Please excuse us, Nancy.”

Nancy informed the guard of her plans before walking to the museum door. As she put her hand on the door handle, a sudden thought stopped her in her tracks. Henrik had admitted that he was sympathetic to the protestors’ cause, Could he be planning to unleash something at the gala tonight?

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“According to the guy at the car rental agency, this is where the Foxes asked directions to.”, Joe

said. He peered through the windscreen at The Colonial Hotel. The ten storey, white building stood proud in its own grounds near the center of Bayport.

“Okay, but let’s be careful”, Frank said. “It still feels like we’re following their trail of breadcrumbs.”

“True”,Joe replied. “But if they’ve got some scheme brewing, we may have to play their game to find out what it is.”

As the two brothers pushed through the brass and glass revolving door, Joe took a moment to scan the lobby. The whole room was two stories high and most of it was panelled in a warm brown wood.

“Remember, the Foxes could be anyone”, Frank said.

“You don’t have to remind me”, Joe responded. “I know they’re masters of disguise.”

Frank sat down in an armchair near the two gleaming steel elevators while Joe roamed around the lobby.

Eventually a young guy emerged from one of the elevators. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans and sunglasses and short auburn hair peeked out from underneath his baseball cap. Fiona had disguised herself as a guy before, Joe remembered. Could this be her?

The young guy was walking toward the revolving door. Both Hardys followed him, trying not to look as if they weren’t tailing him.

Once they were outside, the young guy didn’t start heading for a car or van. In fact he stood outside the hotel entrance, seemingly waiting for someone. After a while a gray van entered the parking lot and pulled up right outside the hotel’s doors. After speaking to whoever was driving the van, he got in the passenger’s side.

The brothers raced across the parking lot and piled into their van. But as they were doing so, the gray van was already pulling out of the parking lot.

“We’d better not lose them.”, Joe said.

The gray van wound through Bayport, Joe managed to keep the Hardys’ van close on its tail. “It looks like they’re headed toward Chet’s side of town.”, Frank commented.

“Then we’ll try and box them in at the old Mancuso farm.”, Joe replied.

The Mancuso farm had been abandoned for as long as Joe could remember. Every so often, there had been rumours of someone buying the place and renovating it but those had never come to anything.

Joe started to draw level with the other van. The road here was barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other. As they approached an overgrown drive, Joe suddenly swerved toward it, forcing the other van to turn down the drive.

“We’ve finally got them.”, Joe said. “They’ve got no way of getting out of this.”

The gray van had come to a stop just outside the old farmhouse. The building had several broken windowpanes and the water chute was coming loose from one end of the roof.

Joe saw that the young guy and what looked like a middle aged woman had gotten out of the van and were heading toward a nearby barn.

“We’ll corner them inside.”, Joe said.

The two brothers raced towards the barn but stopped when they heard a loud engine noise. Suddenly two ATV’s burst out of the barn and drove straight toward Frank and Joe. The brothers managed to dive out of the way. Joe ran across the yard after the fleeing pair but it was no good.

“They had this planned from the start”, Frank said as the Hardys watched the two ATV’s roar away across the fields.

“They made fools of us again.”, Joe said. “I’m going to take a look inside their van and see if they left anything behind.”

“It’ll probably lead to another trick.”, Frank said. “But we don’t have many other clues and we may be able to turn the tables on them later.”

The brothers searched the van. At first they found nothing but then Joe spotted a crumpled up ball of paper. “Let’s see what this says”, he commented while opening the ball up.

“It’s a receipt for car hire again”, Joe reported. “For National Airport. That’s near Washington DC.”

“We’d better check with Mrs Smith.”, Frank said. “And see if anyone who lives in that area has ever offered to buy the coins.”

They were soon outside the elderly woman’s house. Frank rang the doorbell and a moment later Mrs Smith answered. “Have you found the coins yet?”, she asked when she saw Frank and Joe.

“Not yet”, Frank told her. “But we’d like to ask a couple of questions to help us decide what to do next.”

“You’d better come in, then.”, Mrs Smith said, leading the way into her front room. Once in there, she sat down in one of the armchairs while Frank and Joe both took a seat on the couch. “Now, what did you want to ask me?” she said.

“Is there anybody who lives in or near Washington DC that has ever offered to buy the coins?”, Frank asked.

“There’s Henry Wyley. That man just can’t take no for an answer. He’s tried to buy the coins so many times from both my Harold, back when he was alive, and me. Each time he’s offered a ridiculous sum of money for them. But my Harold wouldn’t sell them and I’ve tried to honor his wishes.”

“What does Wyley do?”, Joe asked.

“He’s a very successful attorney down there. From quite a prominent family too, he mentioned several times that his father was a senator.”

“So, he’s well connected and wealthy”, Frank said. “Exactly the type of person who would hire the Foxes to do his dirty work.”

“Can you get my Harold’s coins back?”,Mrs Smith asked.

“We’ve taken down people like Wyley before.”, Joe said. “Besides, we’ve got a score to settle with the Foxes. They’re not going to make fools of us again.”

###

 

 

“You look stunning, George.”, Nancy said as her friend emerged from the bathroom.

“Are you sure?”, George responded. She was wearing a silver scoop-neck top and matching pants. On her feet were smart black flats and diamond studs twinkled in her ears.

“Of course we’re sure.”, Bess chimed in. “I knew that outfit would be perfect for you the moment I saw it on the hanger.”

“I have to hand to you, Bess.”, Nancy admitted as she teased her hair into a French braid. “Your fashion sense was right again.”

“I know.”, Bess said.

The three of them took the elevator down to the lobby. As Nancy passed a large mirror she couldn’t help admiring how she looked. She was wearing a floor length peach dress with a simple gold necklace.

Bess had opted for a knee length black dress with a pearl necklace and matching earrings. “Didn’t Mrs Caldwell arrange for a car?”

“It should be here in a moment.”,George said.

The three girls walked outside just as a black sedan was drawing up to the curb. “Are you Nancy Drew, Bess Marvin and George Fayne?”, the driver asked.

“That’s us”, Bess said.

Soon they were settled in the back of the sedan, watching the city sights go by. “There’s the Lincoln Memorial!”, Bess exclaimed.

“Calm down, Bess”, George said. “We spent most of this afternoon seeing these sights, remember?”

“I know’, Bess replied. “But it’s still exciting to see them.”

Now they were driving through Rock Creek Park. “I can’t wait to visit the National Zoo tomorrow”, Nancy said.

“Me too”, George said.

The car pulled into Beech Hill’s drive and the three girls stepped out. The trees lining the drive had had strings of small white lights strung between them.

Nancy gave their names to the uniformed young man at the door, After checking the clipboard he was holding, he opened the door for them.

Nancy, Bess and George followed the crowds of well dressed men and women through the galleries to the main hall.

Susan Caldwell was standing there. With her was a silver haired man wearing a neatly pressed black suit and expensive brown Italian loafers.”Girls, I’d like you to meet Taylor Sinclair. He was the art dealer who acquired the Pacal carving on our behalf. Taylor, this is Nancy Drew, George Fayne and Bess Marvin. They’re spending a few days in the city, sightseeing.”

“Pleased to meet the three of you”, Taylor Sinclair said. As he shook each of their hands, Nancy noticed his enameled cuff-links and designer Swiss watch. Clearly, Taylor Sinclair believed in making the right impression. “Now, if you young ladies will excuse us. Mrs Caldwell and I have some museum business to discuss.”

“Of course”, Nancy said. Once Susan and Taylor Sinclair were out of earshot, she checked to see that no one else could hear her before whispering to Bess and George, “Let’s get to work. Keep your eyes open for anything unusual but be discreet.”

“Speaking of unusual”, George said. “Look who’s here.”

Nancy followed the line of George’s gaze and saw Alejandro del Rio. He was with an older black haired woman wearing a purple dress. He was also scowling. His companion tried to engage him in conversation but Alejandro turned away from her.

“George”, Nancy said. Would you mind keeping your eyes on him tonight?”

“No problem”, George said and melted into the crowd.

Nancy and Bess navigated their way between the various groups of people.

“Look”, Bess said, pointing. “There’s the refreshment table. Is it okay if I go and grab us some punch.”

“Sure”, Nancy said. Just then a familiar face caught her eye, it was Henrik van der Hume. His suit didn’t quite seem to fit him and he kept looking around the room as though he would rather be anywhere else.

Bess returned from the refreshment table, carrying two glasses of punch. As they sipped their drinks, Nancy kept her eyes on Henrik van der Hume. Was his nervousness merely down to the fact that he was uncomfortable in social situations? Or was he nervous because he knew something was going to happen?

After a while Susan Caldwell appeared on a raised platform at one end of the hall, with her were Taylor Sinclair and Henrik van der Hume. Also on the platform was what looked like a glass case covered with a purple cloth. “May I have your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen”, she announced through a microphone. “First, I’d like to thank you for your continuing generosity. Second, I hope that you’re all enjoying yourselves this evening. And finally I’d like to introduce the man whose skill and dedication allowed us to bring this historic piece to Beech Hill, Mr Taylor Sinclair.”

Taylor Sinclair then accepted the microphone from her, “It’s a great honor to be asked to be part of this exciting new chapter in Beech Hill’s history”, he said, “And to welcome this important artifact to its new home, And now I present to you Lord Pacal!”

He took hold of the cloth and pulled it aside with a flourish to reveal a completely empty case.

A gasp rose from the crowd, Nancy still couldn’t believe her eyes.

Someone had stolen the carving!

 


	4. Chapter 4

For a moment a stunned silence reigned throughout the hall. Then, almost as if a signal had been given, a great commotion broke out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and stay where you are”, Susan Caldwell announced into the microphone. “The police are on their way.”

George made her way over to Nancy and Bess, “I had my eyes on Alejandro the whole time”, she reported. “He didn’t go near the case.”

“He may not have needed to,”Nancy said. “He could have been working with an accomplice this entire time.”

“Well the three who were up there had the most opportunity to take the carving,” Bess commented.

“But they don’t seem to have any motive,” George said.

“One of them might have,” Nancy said, keeping her focus on the three on the platform. She told the others about what Henrik had said earlier that day.

“What a mess”, George said. “A priceless carving vanishes right under our noses and we have no clue how it happened!”

###

Later after the Washington police department had arrived and questioned the guests before allowing them to go, Nancy, Bess, George and Sandra were sat at a table in the main hall. A platter with leftovers from the buffet sat in front of them, untouched.

Sandra sighed. “This’ll be a real PR blow for the museum, Mrs Caldwell could even lose her job over this.”

Just then Mrs Caldwell and another man came into the hall. As they got closer, Nancy recognised the man. It was Agent Daniel Burr from the FBI, Nancy had worked with him on another case at the FBI academy at Quantico.

“I’d hoped to get the chance to work with you again, Miss Drew,” the agent said when he saw Nancy.

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent Burr,” Nancy replied. “Are you working this case?”

“The Washington PD passed the buck to us because of the high profile nature and potential international scope of this case,”Agent Burr replied. “I was recently transferred to Art Theft so they put me on this case. Why don’t we talk somewhere private? I’d be really interested to hear your thoughts on this theft.”

“You can use my office,” Mrs Caldwell offered.

“I’d like Bess and George to join us, if that’s possible. I couldn’t have solved some of my cases without them,”Nancy said.

Once the four of them were settled in the director’s office, Agent Burr gave Nancy the facts of the case. “The lock on the display case wasn’t picked and only Mrs Caldwell and Mr Van der Hune had keys.”

“When was the cloth put over the display case?” Nancy asked.

“About thirty minutes before the gala,” Agent Burr replied. “Mrs Caldwell admitted that she didn’t pay that much attention to it after that.”

“So, anyone could have stolen it in that time,” Bess said.

‘”Not really.”, Agent Burr replied. “There were only a few people on site at that time. The staff, Taylor Sinclair, the delegation from the Mexican Cultural Institute, John Riggs, an expert on the Mayans from The Smithsonian and the caterers were also setting up.

“So even though access was restricted, there were quite a few people who had the opportunity,” Nancy said. “Were there any clues left at the scene.”

“Just this note,” Agent Burr said, holding up a note in a plastic bag. The note had Mayan glyphs on it. The most striking thing about it, though, was the large scarlet handprint directly below the glyphs.

“Is that blood?”, Bess asked fearfully.

“It didn’t react to any of our preliminary tests,” Agent Burr replied. “We’re going to send it off to the FBI lab to see what it actually is.”

“You might want to check the fingerprints too”, Nancy suggested. “At least two of the potential suspects would had to have their prints taken when they entered the US.”

“We’ll do that,”Agent Burr promised. “Is there anything else you might need?”

“I’d like a copy of the note please.”, Nancy said. “And could you get me a photo of the carving?”

“That I can do,” Agent Burr said. “But we’d better work quick. That carving could be smuggled out of the country at any moment.”

###

 

 

 

The next morning, after breakfast, Nancy, Bess and George were back at Beech Hill. “I hope you two don’t mind us coming back here,” Nancy said. “I want to search the museum and grounds in the daylight.”

“No problem”, George said. “I just hope our vacation isn’t a total bust.”

“Well, the sooner we start searching this place, the sooner we can get back to sightseeing.”, Bess said.

Once inside the museum, Nancy, Bess and George headed straight up to the director’s office. “I thought I’d be seeing you three this morning,” Susan Caldwell greeted them. “The main hall’s still sealed off but otherwise you girls have free run of the place.”

“Good,” Nancy said. “The police and FBI focused on the main hall last night. We’ll see if we can pick up anything that they might have missed.”

“That’s great, I’ve got to go over to the Mexican Cultural Institute and smooth things over. We were hoping to borrow some of their pieces of art for an upcoming exhibition but who knows if that’ll go ahead now. But Henrik should be here all day.”

“Actually, is it okay if I tag along with you?,” Nancy asked. “I need to start investigating suspects.”

“You think Alejandro may have had something to do with this?”, Mrs Caldwell said. “Agent Burr told me that he couldn’t question either him or his supervisor last night.”

“Because of diplomatic immunity?”

“They both told him that they would have to check with the head of the institute before answering any of his questions.”

“Is it okay with you guys?”, Nancy asked Bess and George.

“You go on ahead, Nance,” George said. “We’ll take care of things here.”

Nancy and the museum director shared a cab on their way to the institute. Their cab pulled up outside a red brick building that had clearly been a grand townhouse at some point. They entered a spacious lobby with a grand staircase at one end and a handsome, polished desk made from cherry wood.

Both Susan and Nancy signed their names in a vistor’s book. “Why don’t you look around the museum here?”, Susan suggested to Nancy. “They have quite an impressive collection of Mayan and Aztec artefacts.”

For a while, Nancy lost herself in the beauty of the exhibits, but then she saw Alejandro del Rio. When he saw her he scowled and said,”Are you here about the carving or have you and the director come to plunder more of Mexico’s art?”

“I was just admiring the institute’s wonderful collection,”Nancy said.

“There are quite a few pieces here that were repatriated to Mexico when it was discovered that they were looted or stolen.”

”And do you hope the Pacal carving will join them one day?”

“Perhaps it will but I had nothing to do with its disappearance.”

“So you aren’t worried that it might never be seen again.”

“So my friend Pacal goes underground again for a while until he turns up in Rome or Moscow or Tokyo. To me that carving became stolen the moment it left Mexico.”

“I see. Well, I’d better go see if the director has finished her meeting.”

As Nancy walked back towards the entrance lobby, she saw a familiar figure. It was Henrik van der Hune. That was odd, Nancy thought, Susan Caldwell had mentioned that he was going to be at Beech Hill all day. Why was he at the institute? Could he have stolen the carving and brought it here for safekeeping?

###

 

“We’ve been watching this place all morning and so far nothing,” Joe complained. “When is Wyley going to make a move?”

“We’ve got stay on this guy, Joe,” Frank replied. “He’s our only real lead to finding the coins.”

The brothers were in a small park directly opposite Henry Wyley’s Georgetown law office. They had caught an early morning flight from Bayport to Washington DC.

“Can we at least grab some lunch soon?”, Joe asked.”It’s been ages since we had breakfast at National Airport.”

“I suppose we could get some lunch nearby,” Frank replied. “It’ll give us a chance to see some of DC’s historic architecture.”

They had gone only a few steps when Frank heard a familiar voice call out, “Frank Hardy, is that you?”

He turned round and saw Nancy Drew waving at him. With her were Bess, George, and another girl that Frank didn’t recognise.

When the girls caught up to Frank and Joe, George introduced Sandra. Frank thought that she had some of the most vivid green eyes he’d ever seen.

“We were just on our way to grab some lunch,” Nancy said. “Want to join us?”

The group walked up the street to an Italian restaurant with a green and white awning. Once they were all seated around a table, Frank asked Nancy,”Are you here on vacation or are you here on a case?”

“We were on vacation but I guess now we’re on a case,”Nancy replied. She told Frank and Joe about the theft of the Pacal carving.

“Talk about your real puzzles,” Joe said, once Nancy had explained everything.

“I know,”Nancy replied. “So what are you guys doing in DC?”

When Frank explained why they were there, Sandra looked shocked. “Henry Wyley!” she exclaimed. “But he’s one of Beech Hill’s biggest donors. He was at the gala last night!”

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Frank couldn’t believe it. The man he and Joe suspected of having masterminded the theft of the Confederate coins was also on the scene when the Pacal carving was stolen.

“It’s unlikely that the Foxes were the ones who stole the carving since they were in Bayport until just before the theft and they’d need a lot of preparation to pull something like this off,”Joe said.

“But it’s not impossible,” Nancy pointed out.

“It also doesn’t rule out the fact that Wyley could have paid another professional thief to steal the carving,” George added.

“Frank, after lunch I’d like you and Joe to meet Susan Caldwell, the museum director,” Nancy said.

As they ate lunch and talked, Frank found that he couldn’t take his eyes off Sandra Fayne. She was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever met and her obvious passion for preserving history was equally as attractive.

After lunch, the group took the metro back to the museum and Nancy introduced the Hardys to Susan Caldwell.

“Pleased to meet you both,” the museum director said. “By the way, Nancy. Agent Burr dropped these off for you.”

“Great,” Nancy said, taking the two items. Frank saw that they were a photo of a small green object and a piece of paper with a handprint and what appeared to be writing of some sort.

“I also called John Riggs over at the Smithsonian,” Susan Caldwell added. “I thought that finding out what those glyphs mean might be helpful to you.”

“So what did he say?” Bess asked.

“He said that he’s available to speak with you this afternoon.”

“Good, then we’d better get going,” Nancy said. “Sandra, can you show Frank and Joe around?”

After Nancy, Bess and George had left for their appointment, Sandra gave the brothers a tour.

“This place is amazing,” Joe said as they walked through a high ceilinged corridor lined with display cases.

“It’s a real shame that you can’t see the main hall,” Sandra said. “But it’s still sealed off after last night.”

“Then we’ll make sure that we see it before we go,” Frank said. Just then his eye was caught by what looked like an auburn haired young man disappearing around a corner. “Joe, did you see that?” he asked, his tone hurried.

“Yeah, I did. We can’t afford to lose her this time,” Joe replied.

Frank and Joe raced after the figure, keeping up their pursuit past groups of tourists as well as weaving through groups of stroller pushing mothers.

“She’s headed toward the entrance,” Joe called.

The brothers kept up their pursuit until they saw the young man get into a cab which quickly pulled away from the sidewalk and melted into the passing stream of traffic.

Frank stood for a moment, staring at the spot where the cab had been while questions raced through his mind. Was the young man really Fiona Fox? If so, why was she at Beech Hill? And was any of this connected to the theft of the Pacal carving?

 

###

 

Nancy stepped out of the cab outside the National Museum of Natural History. “Here we are,” she announced.

“I hope this isn’t the only time we get to visit here,”Bess said.

“Why is John Riggs’ office here, anyway?” George asked. “The Maya aren’t natural history, they’re regular history.”

“We’ll ask him when we meet with him,” Nancy replied.

After giving their names to a uniformed security guard, the three girls were directed to an anonymous looking door in a gray walled corridor in the museum’s vast complex of offices and laboratories.

John Riggs greeted them. He was a tall, slender, sandy haired man in his early forties. “I was told that you needed a translation of some glyphs.”

“That’s right,” Nancy answered.

“Susan Caldwell mentioned that you were looking into the disappearance of the Pacal carving,”John Riggs said. “I hope it is recovered even if Beech Hill isn’t the proper place for it.”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

“It would be seen by so many more people if it were at the Smithsonian. In addition, we have much better equipment here and could learn much more about the Maya from it.”

“Is that why your office is here?” Nancy asked.

“It’s not a traditional place for an expert in the Maya to be based, I admit,” John Riggs replied. “But it does give me access to some advanced research equipment and if the other experts here discover something about Mexico’s climate or ecology during the Mayan era that could have a bearing on my research, I’m usually one of the first people to know about it.”

“I see,” Nancy said. “Can you think of anyone who could be involved in the carving’s theft?”

“Off the top of my head, I’d have to say Alejandro del Rio or Taylor Sinclair. Alejandro del Rio would do anything to return that carving to Mexico. As for Taylor Sinclair, I wouldn’t put it past him. You see, he cares nothing for an artefact’s artistic value. Only the money and prestige it can bring him. But enough about that. Where are the glyphs you needed translating?”

Nancy handed him the note.

John Riggs studied it for a moment before saying”, This is interesting.”

“What is?” asked Nancy.

“This note contains a modified version of a Maya curse. It says that those who disturb Lord Pacal will be flayed alive.”

“Gross”. Bess said with a shudder.

“So, our crook knows a lot about the Maya,” George remarked. “But that hardly narrows it down.”

“There’s one more thing, Mr Riggs,” Nancy said. “In the original copy of this note, the handprint was red. Could you suggest what might have been used to make it?”

“Off the top of my head, I’d say cinnabar, also know by its scientific name, mercuric sulfide.”

“Why would you say that?” Nancy asked.

“The Maya used cinnabar as a paint. In fact, I normally have some to hand for restoration purposes but I’m all out right now.”

“Well, thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr Riggs.”

###

 

As the three girls walked back into Beech Hill, Frank and Joe rushed up to them. “Did you find out anything useful?” Joe asked.

“I think so,” Nancy said. She told the Hardys what had happened.

“So, the message was a threat not to try to find the carving?” Frank asked.

“That’s what it looks like,” Nancy said.

“What really stands out is the thief used the word disturb,” Joe said. “Does that imply that the carving is in its proper place, or soon will be?”

“Which points to Alejandro del Rio again,” George commented.

“Of course, we can’t rule out John Riggs either,” Nancy said. “He was at Beech Hill during the time the carving was probably stolen.”

“I don’t know about everybody else,” George said. “But I’m thirsty. How about grabbing a cold drink and taking it outside.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nancy said. “We can throw some ideas around while we’re out there. We might even come up with something.”

After getting some sodas and bottles of water from the museum cafe, the five of them headed out to the ornate gardens. They had just rounded the corner of one of the hedges and entered a rose garden.

There, lying among the bright red and pink flowers was Henrik van der Hune.

“I’m going to see if he’s okay,” Nancy told the others. She dashed across the lawn and knelt by the curator’s side. Now that she was closer, she could see the large lump on the side of the curator’s head.

She heard the sound of someone running toward her. In what seemed like a second, Frank was kneeling down beside her.

“Joe’s gone to get help,” he reported.

“Good”, Nancy said.

Just then a faint voice broke in, “Check...right.”

“Mr van der Hume?”, Nancy said.

“Check...right,” the man repeated with a great deal of effort. Moments later, his whole body went limp.


	6. Chapter 6

“Mr van der Hune! Mr van der Hune!” Nancy tried to get some response from the man but he didn’t stir.

“He’s still breathing and it looks like his airway is clear,” Frank said.

“Good. Help me put him in the recovery position,” Nancy responded.

Once the two teens had done so, Frank asked Nancy, “What do you think he meant by “check right”. The right what? Does it mean the right side of something or something else?”

“I guess we’ll have to ask him later when he wakes up,”Nancy replied.

After what seemed like an eternity, Joe rushed up. With him were Susan Caldwell and the paramedics.

“What happened?” one of the paramedics, a solidly build woman, asked.

“We think he could have been hit on the head,” Frank answered.

While the paramedics treated the museum curator. Susan Caldwell turned to Nancy and asked, “Do you think whoever did this is the same person who stole the Pacal carving?”

“I’m afraid we can’t rule it out,” Nancy answered. “In any case, Agent Burr should know about this.”

“I’ll phone him as soon as I know what’s happening with Henrik,” Susan Caldwell promised.

The same paramedic as before came over. “He’s still unconscious,” she reported. “We’ll take him back to the hospital for tests.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mrs Caldwell said. “He needs a familiar face there when he wakes up.”

“Why don’t you and Bess go with her?” Nancy suggested to George. “We’ll finish up here and then meet you at the hospital.”

“Joe and I had better get back to tracking down the Foxes,” Frank said. “Why don’t we meet up for dinner tonight. There’s a seafood place near our hotel that’s supposed to be good.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Nancy said. “Where are you staying?”

“We’re at a place near the waterfront,” Joe answered.

“Great, see you tonight,” Nancy said.

By now the paramedics had finished examining Henrik and had lifted him onto a stretcher. After saying goodbye to everyone, Nancy watched as they left. She then walked around the rose garden, searching for clues to who had been behind the attack on Henrik. Where he had been lying, Nancy spotted something small and white. She knelt down to have a closer look. It was a scrap of paper. Nancy picked it up to examine it thoroughly.

The scrap of paper looked as though it had been torn off of something else. “Probably in a struggle,” Nancy said to herself. She turned the scrap over, there was something printed on the other side. Most of it was missing but what remained looked like a lower case h or n.

Slipping the scrap of paper into her pocket, Nancy headed inside.

###

 

When Nancy got to the hospital, she found George putting change into a hot drinks machine in a corner of the emergency department’s waiting room. Nearby, Susan Caldwell sat staring at the floor. Bess was sat in the neighboring seat, her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

“Is there any news?” Nancy asked, walking over to George.

“Not yet,” George said, as a paper cup dropped out of the machine and began to fill with espresso. “Is there anything new on your end?”

Nancy slipped the torn scrap of paper out of her pocket “I found this near where Henrik was attacked.”

George took the scrap of paper and looked at it. “Too bad there’s not more printed on it that would give us something to go on.”

“All the same,” Nancy replied. “We should keep an eye out for anything that our suspects have that looks like something could have been torn off it.”

The machine had now finished making the coffee and George took it out and brought it over to Susan Caldwell. The museum director accepted it without a word.

Just then a doctor entered the waiting room. “Susan Caldwell?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mrs Caldwell responded.

“Mr van der Hune is awake and asking for you.”

“Is it alright if Nancy comes with me. She helped administer first aid before the paramedics arrived.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Nancy and Susan Caldwell followed the doctor through a set of double doors and into a large room. Nurses and doctors were rushing to and fro and disappearing into various curtained off areas. The doctor led them to one of the curtains. “He’s in there,” she said. “Just remember that he’s still a bit weak so try not to tire him out, okay?”

Nancy and Mrs Caldwell went through the curtain. Henrik was propped up in a hospital bed. “They want to keep me in overnight for observation,” he said.

“Henrik, do you remember who attacked you?” Nancy asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” he answered. “The last thing I remember was heading out into the gardens at Beech Hill.”

“So, you don’t even remember being in the rose garden?”, Nancy asked.

“I don’t.”

“I saw you at the Mexican Cultural Institute this morning,” Nancy said. “Why were you there?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t tell anyone why I was there. Not until the carving is safe.”

“But you’ll tell us everything when this is over?” Susan Caldwell asked.

The doctor poked her head in. “I’m sorry but we need to take Mr van der Hune for some more tests now.”

“Why don’t I contact Agent Burr for you,”Nancy suggested to Susan Caldwell. “I need to ask him something anyway.”

“I’ll talk to you later, then,” Mrs Caldwell said.

###

 

Nancy, Bess and George walked into the bustling coffee shop where they had arranged to meet Agent Burr. It had black shiny tables and sleek steel chairs with brown wood seats. A long glass counter took up most of one wall. As Bess went to get their coffees, Nancy spotted Agent Burr.

He was sat at a table at the back of the cafe, a cappuccino already in front of him. After greeting Nancy and George warmly, he asked how Henrik was doing.

“He’s doing okay,” Nancy said as she took the seat opposite him.

“That’s good to hear,” Agent Burr said.” He took a sip of his drink and then looked at Nancy.

“I do need your help with something, though.”

“What do you need us to do?” George asked.

Agent Burr waited until Bess had brought the girls’ drinks over before answering, “I need you girls to pay a visit to Taylor Sinclair and see if you can find out anything. When I talked to him I got the feeling he was being evasive.”

“And you think he’ll let his guard down around us?” Nancy asked.

“I do.”

“We’ll do it,” Nancy answered. “Could I ask you for a favor, though?”

“What do you need?”

Nancy took a sip of her latte before answering, “I need you to run a check on Henry Wyley.”

“I can do that. Is this connected to the theft of the carving?”

“It could be,” Nancy answered.

“Good, It’ll make it easier to get my boss to agree to it. Wyley’s a pretty big name around these parts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got connections at the Bureau.”

“Got it,” Nancy said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

###

As Nancy entered Casey’s, the restaurant where Frank and Joe had arranged to meet them, she wanted to dance to the rock song that filled the room. The rest of the place was equally as funky with long benches either side of unvarnished wood tables and oversized plastic fish and lobsters on the walls.

“Frank and Joe sure picked a fun place,” Bess said.

Nancy soon spotted where Frank and Joe were sitting. “Hi, you two!” she called, the joy evident in her voice.

“Isn’t this a wild place?” Joe asked, once the girls had walked over to join them.

“It’s definitely not what I was expecting,” Nancy said.

After everyone had sat down Nancy asked, “So, what did you guys dig up?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Joe said. “Wyley didn’t go near anyone remotely resembling the Foxes. Did you turn up anything?”

Nancy pulled the scrap of paper that she had found in the rose garden out of her pocket,” I found this near where Henrik was attacked.”

Frank held his hand out,”Can I see that?”

Nancy gave the scrap of paper to Frank. He studied it for a minute and then said,” It’s not much but it’s something.”

“Can you guys keep an eye out for anything that might have had that torn off it?” Nancy asked.

“Will do,” Joe said. “Anything else?”

“Next on my list is talking to Taylor Sinclair,” Nancy replied.

“He was up on the platform when it was discovered that the carving was missing, right?” Frank said.

“Right,” Nancy confirmed. “And he was around when it was probably stolen.”

“But he didn’t have a key,” Bess said. “So how could he have stolen it?”

“I get the feeling that Mrs Caldwell trusts him a lot,” Nancy said. “He could have taken her key, stolen the carving and then returned the key without her suspecting a thing.”

Just then, the waitress came over to take their orders and the teens stopped discussing the case and concentrated on dinner.

###

 

“That was the best seafood I’ve ever tasted!” Bess said as the five of them emerged onto the sidewalk.

“No kidding,” Joe responded. “I could just eat another bowl of that clam chowder right now.”

“You also had a large slice of apple pie,” Frank reminded his brother.

“I could go for another slice of that as well,” Joe shot back.

“We’ll have to come here again before we have to go back home,”Nancy said

The teens walked along, keeping up a steady conversation. They were almost at Frank and Joe’s hotel when Nancy heard the sound of a car being driven at speed.

“Someone’s in a hurry to get somewhere,” she said.

“It sounds like they’re headed this way,” Frank said as the sound grew louder.

Suddenly, the car appeared. It was large and white and picked up speed as it drew nearer. With a screech it pulled out of traffic and mounted the sidewalk.

“It’s headed right for us!” George shouted

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

For a moment Frank couldn’t move. He stared at the car as it hurtled towards them.

“Move, Frank!”, Joe cried, grabbing onto his arm and yanking him out of the way. The effort caused Joe to lose his balance. He fell over, pulling Frank down with him. The car sped by just inches from where both brothers had landed. The roar of the car’s engine as it passed them was one of the loudest sounds Frank had ever heard. Because of where they landed, Frank couldn’t see whether Nancy, George and Bess had managed to get out of the car’s path. Both brothers stayed where they were until they heard the car roar off into the distance.

“Frank! Joe! Are you guys okay?” Bess’ voice came from somewhere in front of them.

“We’re fine,” Joe answered as he scrambled to his feet and then helped Frank up.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Bess said as she, Nancy and George joined the Hardys, “I was so busy trying to avoid that car that I couldn’t see where you two had got to.”

“Speaking of that car,” Nancy said, “did anyone get a license plate number or anything that could help us track it down?”

“I was too busy running from it to get anything,” George said, “but I did notice that there were two guys inside.”

“What did they look like?” Frank wanted to know.

George pursed her lips, “I didn’t get a really good look at them but they were both pretty big guys and both of them were wearing dark glasses.”

“Sounds like secret agents or possibly former military guys to me,” Joe suggested.

“Which hardly narrows it down in this town,” Frank commented.

“We’d better be careful from now on, guys,” Nancy said, “someone’s onto us.”

###

 

The next morning, after slipping into a green cotton sundress, Nancy called Susan Caldwell and got the address of Taylor Sinclair’s gallery. Soon she, Bess and George were sitting in a Metro carriage on their way to Dupont Circle.

“I also texted Frank and Joe,” Nancy said,”they’ll be hanging around Beech Hill this morning. They think that there could be a lead at the museum.”

“And I suppose the fact that Frank seemed interested in Sandra has nothing to do with it,” Bess said mischievously.

“So what if it does?” George shot back. “Frank’s perfectly capable of mixing business with pleasure.”

After a while, the girls arrived at the station nearest to Taylor Sinclair’s gallery which was located on a side street just off Dupont Circle.

“Look at these great stores,” Bess said as the trio passed quirky looking stores housed in old townhouses.

“Once we’re done with Taylor Sinclair, we should come back and check them out,” Nancy said.

The girls arrived at Taylor Sinclair’s gallery which was in an elegant red-brick townhouse which looked similar to its neighbors.

As Nancy pushed open the door to the gallery, she took a moment to study her surroundings. The front room was full of paintings and sculptures which were positioned to show them off perfectly.

Men in tailored suits and women in designer dresses walked around examining pieces of art. At the back of the room a brown haired young guy sat behind a desk.

As Nancy approached, he looked up and asked, “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak to Taylor Sinclair, if that’s possible. My name’s Nancy Drew.”

“I’ll just call and see if he’s available,” the young man replied.

As he made his call, Nancy whispered to Bess and George, “See what you can find out down here while I talk with Taylor Sinclair.”

“Okay, Nance,” Bess whispered back. George gave a slight nod.

The young man put down the phone and came over to Nancy, “Mr Sinclair would like to see you. Please follow me.”

The young man led Nancy through a door behind the desk and up a flight of stairs to a substantial looking door. When he opened the door, Nancy saw a large elegantly decorated office.

“Is that Miss Drew, Brian?” Taylor Sinclair’s voice came from somewhere in the office that Nancy couldn’t see.

“It is,” the young man answered.

“Send her in, then.”

As Nancy walked farther into the office, she noticed that prints of famous artists’ work hung on the walls. The furniture was made of rich dark wood and on the floor was an intricately patterned Turkish carpet.

Taylor Sinclair was sat behind a polished rosewood desk. He stood up and came out from behind it to greet Nancy.

“How are you, Miss Drew? I hope you don’t mind but I did take the time to do some research, you have a very impressive track record.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said. In truth, it always made her a little nervous when people knew about her detective work.

“Shall we sit down? Then you can let me know what you need from me.”

Nancy sat down in a red upholstered armchair opposite the desk. Taylor Sinclair settled himself in his own chair behind the desk before asking, “Is there anything you’d like to start with?”

“Can you tell me where you were at the party between the time that we talked and the time that Pacal was supposed to be unveiled?”

“I was with Susan Caldwell for most of that time. I did circulate and chat to a few other people but I’m sure most of them will be able to verify that I didn’t go near the display case until the time that the carving was meant to be unveiled.”

“I know you were at the museum before the party. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”

“I really didn’t notice anything unusual, I’m afraid. I was too busy making sure that everything was ready. I did see a few people who might have a motive for stealing the carving.”

“Who do you suspect?” Nancy asked.

“John Riggs, for one. He made an insultingly low bid on the carving and he’s always been jealous of the fact that Beech Hill is better funded.”

“But if he was found out he’d lose everything,” Nancy responded. “Even if he didn’t go to jail, he’d never be able to work in his field of expertise again.”

“People don’t always think about the long term consequences before acting. Even those who should know better.”

“And who is the other person you suspect?”

“Alejandro del Rio,” the art dealer answered without hesitation.

“Why is that?”

“He and the rest of the repatriation bunch have been making such a song and dance about this carving. The only reason that the Mexican government hasn’t cancelled his internship is because his family has such great influence. They’re rumored to be descended from Lord Pacal himself, you know.”

“I see why he’s so passionate about it, then,” Nancy said. “Where was the carving before you bought it for Beech Hill?”

“It came into the US, perfectly legally, I might add, in the ninteen-forties. It was acquired by a Los Angeles gallery who then sold it to the Petersens, a pair of prominent Pre-Columbian art collectors, in the fifties. Both of them died last year.”

“And you helped Beech Hill buy it then?”

“Yes. The Petersens’ executor contacted me for help in disposing of their collection. It was too large and expensive for any one buyer.”

“What about its provenance?”

“The Petersens were very careful about making sure that they didn’t buy from shady sources. Is that all you needed to ask me? Because I have an appointment with the Molvenian ambassador.”

“Isn’t Molvenia in Eastern Europe?”, Nancy asked.

“It is.”

“Well, thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

“It’s been a pleasure. Give my best to Susan, won’t you.”

When Nancy went back downstairs, Bess and George were waiting for her. “What did you find out?” Bess asked.

“Not here,” Nancy said,” There’s a nice looking cafe we passed on our way here. Let’s stop for a cold drink on the way back to the Metro.”

The trio exited the gallery and walked down the street to a cafe where metal tables and chairs sat outside under brightly colored striped sunshades. The girls chose a table with a red and blue sunshade. Once they had ordered three lemonades, Nancy told Bess and George what she had learned from her interview with Taylor Sinclair.

“Wow!”, Bess exclaimed. “Alejandro’s really descended from Lord Pacal.”

“We don’t know if that’s true,” George cautioned her cousin.

“Even if it’s not true,” Nancy said. “The fact that he might feel that he has a connection to Pacal gives him a very strong motive. What did you guys find out?”

“That assistant of Taylor Sinclair’s?” Bess answered. “His name’s Brian Beaumont and he’s majoring in art history at Georgetown.”

“You should have seen her, Nance,” George said with a wry look in her dark eyes. “She charmed that info out of him so fast that you’d think she graduated from snake charming school. Unfortunately, I completely struck out.”

“No problem,” Nancy replied as the waitress arrived with their drinks. “These look nice and cold and I’m parched.”

###

 

Frank Hardy leant over and peered between the thorny stems of another rose. He and Sandra had decided to look for clues in Beech Hill’s grounds while Joe handled the inside of the museum. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw Sandra searching around a stone sundial in the center of the rose garden.

He stopped his search and walked over to Sandra. As she turned to face him, Frank couldn’t help admiring her slender, athletic frame. “We should check out the rest of the grounds,” she told him.

“That’s a great idea,” Frank agreed.

They strolled through rolling green lawns and under shady trees. Suddenly Sandra stopped walking.

“What’s up?” Frank asked

“That shed,” Sandra said, pointing to a small brown shed in a far corner of the garden which stood with its door open. “It’s supposed to be kept locked.”

Frank took another look at the shed. It was almost hidden by foliage. “We’d better check it out, then.”

The two of them walked slowly towards the shed. Frank reached it first. “Stay outside until I tell you it’s safe,” Frank told Sandra.

He entered the shed, pausing just inside the door to take a look around. The shed was nearly empty, just a few bags of compost lay on the floor.

“It’s OK,” Frank called over his shoulder.

Sandra walked into the shed. The second she was inside, the door slammed shut behind her.

Frank sprang forward just as the sound of a padlock being closed and locked echoed through the shed. He gave the door a hard shove but it didn’t budge.

They were locked in.


	8. Chapter 8

do we do now?” Sandra whispered, her green eyes growing large. The light filtering in through gaps in the boards made lines on her face.

“I’m going to see if there’s another way out of here, “Frank replied. He started to scan their prison for any loose nails or anything that could be used to achieve their escape.

Frank searched the whole room, even pressing on boards to see if any were loose. He got nowhere.

“How long until someone finds us?” Sandra asked. She bit her lower lip. Frank wanted to pull her close, to tell her that everything would be alright. Instead he turned his attention to the shed’s door.

“This is interesting,” he remarked.

“What is?” Sandra asked.

“The hinges. They’re on this side of the door. If I only had a screwdriver, then I could take this door off its hinges.”

“I have a steel nail file. Would that work?”

“It just might.”

Sandra reached into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out the nail file. It was made entirely of steel and was tapered to a point at one end.

“This should do the trick,” Frank said. Sandra handed him the nail file

He knelt down and started working at the screws that secured the bottom hinge to the door. The first screw was stiff at first but Frank finally removed it. The next three screws were easier.

“How are we doing?” Sandra leaned in close.

“One down, one to go,” Frank made sure to pocket the four screws, he’d make sure they got returned to Susan Caldwell as soon as possible.

He stood up, stretched and set to work on the other hinge. The first screw that he tried was even stiffer than the other one. Frank twisted and turned the nail file until the screw came loose. The three other screws were each even trickier than the first. The last one was almost impossible to turn. Frank let out a grunt as he fought to get it free.

At last the screw dropped to the floor with a soft clink. Frank bent down and picked it up. “Let’s see if this door’ll budge now,” he said.

Frank took hold of the door and gave it a gentle push. At first it didn’t move but then ,with a scraping sound, it opened.

Frank slipped through the gap that had been created. He held the door open a little wider so Sandra could come through, then pushed the door back into place.

Joe came walking up to them, “Where have you been? I thought we were meeting up half an hour ago.”

“Someone decided we needed a closer look at one of the museum’s lesser known areas,” Frank told him. “Namely, that shed.”

“What happened?” Joe asked.

As Frank told him, Joe let out a long breath,”Do you think that what just happened is connected to the theft of Pacal or to our case?”

“I don’t know,” Frank answered. “But we should let Ms Caldwell know what happened so that she can get that shed fixed.”

###

“Just think,” Bess said in an awed tone, “we’re standing on the very spot John Wilkes Booth landed when he leapt onto the stage after assassinating President Lincoln.”

“It is kinda hard to believe,” Nancy admitted as she gazed up at the box where Lincoln had been shot.

The three girls were stood on the stage of Ford’s Theatre. They had decided to visit the historic site after Susan Caldwell suggested they take a break from the investigation to do some sightseeing.

“You haven’t seen that much of the city yet”, she had said, “and it would be a shame if you didn’t get to do anything fun while you’re here.”

As Nancy looked up at the presidential box, draped with the Stars and Stripes and with a lithograph of George Washington staring out at them, she was glad they had decided to take some time out from sleuthing to tour the city’s sights. After all, they were here on vacation.

“I can’t believe that no one stopped Booth when he ran across the stage and escaped,” George said. “It was a full house that night, right? Plus the actors were still on the stage.”

“I guess everyone was still in a state of shock,” Nancy replied as she looked at the area audience would have sat in that night. Although the portable chairs of the time had been replaced by red-upholstered seats

“Next stop is the Petersen House where Lincoln died, right?, Bess asked.

“Right, Nancy answered.

The trio walked out of the theatre and started to head across the street to the Petersen House. Suddenly something caught Nancy’s eye. It was a tall distinguished looking man standing up the street. He was talking to a slender young man with amber eyes. “You guys, I think that might be Dr Fox over there.”

“Where?” Bess asked, turning to look.

“Don’t turn round, Bess,” Nancy whispered. We can’t let know we’re onto him.”

“Doctor Fox?” George asked in a whisper, “isn’t that Fiona’s father.”

“That’ s right,” Nancy replied, “and I think that the other man with him is the same guy that was in the lobby of Beech Hill the first time we visited.

As Nancy watched, Doctor Fox handed something to the young guy and then turned to go. “I’m going to see where he’s headed,” she whispered,, “you two go ahead and stick to our plan. I’ll meet you back at our hotel.”

As Bess and George headed across the street, Nancy watched Dr Fox as he headed up the street. After he had gone a few paces, Nancy started tailing him. She made sure to keep a few more paces behind him than she would normally when tailing someone.

They walked up Tenth Street onto F Street. Nancy knew they were only a few blocks from The White House. What kind of business could Doctor Fox possibly have here?

They were coming up to the Treasury Department Building. Just then a tour group in brightly patterned shirts blocked Nancy’s view. When her path was finally cleared, her quarry had vanished.

###

 

“This is my idea of relaxing,” Bess said, looking at the waiters pushing carts filled with cakes, pastries, scones and cookies.

After Nancy had met back up with Bess and George, the three girls had decided to go down to the hotel’s lounge to have afternoon tea. The room was elegant with soft red sofas and armchairs grouped around low tables. Prints depicting various landmarks decorated the walls.

“I’m starting to think that Frank and Joe’s case and our case are really connected,” George said, pouring herself a cup of tea. “What with Fiona showing up at Beech Hill and now that guy from the lobby meeting Dr Fox.”

“After we’re finished here,” Nancy said, as one of the carts approached them, “I’d like to go back to our room and contact Frank and Joe.”

“That’s fine with me,” Bess said, “but for now let’s concentrate on this delicious looking food.”

###

 

After they had finished, the three girls took the elevator up to their floor. They walked down a hallway with green and white patterned wallpaper. They turned a corner and stopped at their door. Nancy took out her keycard and opened the door. No sooner had the three of them stepped inside then the room’s phone started to ring. Nancy rushed over and picked up the receiver.

“Is this Nancy Drew?” a strange male voice with an accent asked.

“It is,” Nancy answered.

“You are looking for the carving of Lord Pacal?”

“How did you know that?”

“Then ask John Riggs.” the male voice said. Then there was a click and Nancy heard nothing but the dial tone.

 


	9. Chapter 9

As Nancy replaced the receiver, all sorts of questions flew through her mind. Who was that on the phone? How had they known where she was staying? What did they know about John Riggs? Most importantly, were they somehow connected to the theft of the carving?

“Who was that, Nance?” Bess asked. As Nancy explained what the mystery call had been about, Bess sat down on her bed. “I don’t like this. How did they know when to call? Is someone following us?”

“I don’t know, Bess” Nancy replied,” but I’m going to contact Agent Burr right away.”

She took out her phone and dialled the FBI agent’s number. He answered the phone almost immediately, “I was just about to call you. The lab results came back.”

“What do they say?” Nancy asked.

“Unfortunately, we weren’t able to get clear enough fingerprints to run them but we did have better luck finding out what the pigment that the handprint was made from was. Turns out it’s mostly mercuric sulfide.”

“You mean cinnabar?”

“That’s right. Does that help in any way?”

“It might. John Riggs uses cinnabar, although he claimed to not have any when I talked to him.”

“Well, that’s interesting”, Agent Burr said, “I’ll start contacting local suppliers of cinnabar and see if he ordered any in the days before the theft. If we can catch him in a lie, that might be something.”

“There’s one more thing,” Nancy said , “I just received a mysterious phone call.”

“Really?”

After Nancy had explained about the phone call, Agent Burr said, “Whoever made that call could be a key witness.”

“Or, they could be trying to frame John Riggs,” Nancy pointed out.

“That too. All the same, I’m going to get the hotel’s phone records and see where our mystery caller was phoning from. Did you recognize anything about the voice?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, if that man contacts you again, be sure to give me or the FBI field office a call.”

“Will do. Goodbye, Agent Burr.”

After Nancy hung up, George asked, “So what did he say?”

After Nancy had told Bess and George the details of her conversation, Bess said, “So, it was cinnabar. Just like John Riggs said it would be.”

“Lots of our suspects have access to cinnabar, though,”George said, “if it’s commonly used in the restoration of Mayan artefacts.”

“That’s true,” Nancy commented, “I’m going to call Frank and Joe and update them on everything that’s happened.”

###

Frank watched as Sandra ate her salad. After their meeting with Susan Caldwell was over, he and Joe had scoured the area around the shed for clues as to who locked him in there. Unfortunately, they had found nothing. Then Sandra suggested that the three of them grab a late lunch in the museum’s cafe.

Frank was glad she did. The cafe had wrought iron tables and chairs. Floor to ceiling windows let lots of light in and a pair of French doors opened onto the museum’s lawn.

“So, what do we do now?” Joe asked, after taking a sip of his orange juice.

“We keep watching Wyley,” Frank answered, “so far, he’s still the only real lead we’ve got. We’ve got to find those coins. Eudora Smith’s counting on us.” He turned his attention to the tortellini on the plate in front of him and concentrated on spearing a piece of pasta with his fork.

As the meal continued, the trio enjoyed the food and some entertaining conversation. Once or twice, Frank could tell that Sandra was impressed by some of the cases that he and Joe had solved.

Suddenly, Fiona Fox entered the cafe. She stood looking around for a moment before heading straight for the Hardys’ table.

“What do you want?” Frank asked, once Fiona sat down.

“Well, that’s a polite way to greet someone you haven’t seen in a while,” Fiona said in her upper-class English accent.

“We still haven’t gotten over what happened in Paris,” Frank replied.

“I wouldn’t have sought you two out if it wasn’t urgent,” Fiona continued, seemingly ignoring Frank, “you’re the only people we can trust in this city.”

Frank studied Fiona’s face. She seemed to be genuinely worried but then both she and her father had proven themselves to be excellent actors in the past.

“Alright,” he finally said, “what do you need?”

“Not here. Too risky,” Fiona said, “meet me at the Jefferson Memorial in an hour.” With that, she melted into a crowd of tourists that had just entered the cafe.

After she had gone, Frank asked, “Do you think we should go?”

“The way I see it, we don’t really have a choice,” Joe answered. “This is the best lead we’ve gotten since we arrived in DC.”

“It could also be a trap,” Frank pointed out.

“If it is,” Joe said, “we might be able to turn the tables on them.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Frank admitted, “it could be our best chance to recover the coins.”

“Well then, that’s settled,” Joe said.

“Unfortunately I’ve got some work to catch up with at the museum. So, I can’t come with you,” Sandra said.

“That’s fine,” Frank replied, “will you let the girls know what’s going on?”

“You can count on me,” Sandra promised.

 

###

“Well, here we are,” Joe said, just under an hour later, “the Jefferson Memorial.” He looked at the circular domed structure with hundreds of tourists milling around it. “How are we supposed to find her?”

“I guess we just play tourist and wait for her to find us,” Frank said with a shrug.

The two brothers were standing in front of the steps that led up to the memorial. To their left, across the waters of the Tidal Basin, the Washington Monument tapered into the sky.

Frank and Joe began to climb the steps toward the memorial. They passed a group of elderly people who had stopped after climbing the first flight of steps.

The brothers entered the memorial between twin pairs of marble columns. As they stood just inside the entrance, Frank took a moment to look around. There was a bronze statue of Thomas Jefferson in the centre of the memorial and quotes from the third president were set into four walls of the structure.

“Excuse me,” a young woman said, coming up to the Hardys. She wore a baseball cap and sunglasses and in her hands she held a map of Washington’s tourist sites. “Could you help me find the Lincoln Memorial?”

“Sure,” Frank said as the young woman unfolded the map so that the three of them were hidden from view.

“Fiona, is that you?” Joe asked.

“Don’t talk, just listen,” the young woman whispered, “wait five minutes and then go to the refreshment stand.” She then folded up the map and walked away.

“Should we follow her?” Joe asked.

“If we do, we’ll probably never find her,” Frank answered, “let’s just head for the refreshment stand.”

###

The brothers approached the refreshment stand. The structure had a pyramidal roof and a number of picnic tables were set around it.

“While we’re here, I’m going to get an ice cream,” Joe said, “do you want anything?”

“Can you grab me a cola?” Frank replied, “I’m going to get us a table.”

 

 

Frank chose a table with a good view of the area. As he sat down, he kept a lookout for anything that didn’t quite fit.

Joe soon returned with an enormous Rocky Road cone in one hand and a can of cola and plastic glass in the other. He set down the can and plastic glass in front of Frank and then took a seat next to him.

After a while, a young woman came up to their table. She had long blonde hair and wore a straw hat and sunglasses. She carried a small cardboard cup of vanilla ice cream. “Is this seat taken?” she asked.

“No, you’re fine,” Frank replied.

The young woman took a seat on the opposite side of the picnic table.

“Why the new disguise, Fiona?” Frank asked.

“It’s necessary to make sure I wasn’t followed,” the cat burglar answered, “I suspect our new client is keeping us under surveillance.

“Why do you think that?” Frank asked.

“It’s a feeling I’ve gotten,” Fiona replied. She leaned in closer, putting her palms on the table either side of her ice cream cup.

“What do you need from us?” Joe asked.

“In a word,” Fiona replied, “Protection. You see, I’m concerned that the client intends to silence us once we are of no further use to them.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I Do Not Own Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys. Well, this is yet another story from me and was started in November 2017 As always any comments including constructive criticism are welcomed


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